


No Change, I Can Change

by micdropbam



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is a Saint, Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breeding, BruJay Week, Bruce Wayne Tries, Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboys & Catgirls, Crying, Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, Human Trafficking, Hurt Jason Todd, Impregnation, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutant Trafficking, Omega Jason Todd, Protective Bruce Wayne, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micdropbam/pseuds/micdropbam
Summary: Bruce Wayne got mistaken for a pedophile because of his close, fatherly relationship with Dick, and because of that, now he has a lead on a man who runs a human trafficking ring of cat/human hybrids as sex slaves.Be careful not to become what you pretend to be.BruJay Week 2021 - Breeding
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83
Collections: BruJay Week 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's a brief mention of a diaper (because Jason is restrained and unable to go to the bathroom or use a chamber pot) but not as a kink, so I thought tagging would be misleading.

In addition to investigating as Batman, Bruce Wayne didn't hesitate to seize opportunities using his real identity—real, well, _legal,_ anyway—to get leads. But the crimes Mr. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises could get wind of had mostly been financial. Exploitation of employees, insider sabotages, callous disregard of regulations... rotten and despicable, but mostly dealt with by leaking information here and there. Occasionally Batman had to make an appearance in some overconfident fat cat's office to scare him back onto the straight and narrow.

When Colin Warner had taken him aside in a cloakroom at a conference and asked him if he was blue because he was 'missing his boy', Bruce had been first surprised and then even found it a little charming. Of course, he missed Dick, nobody could know how much, especially since their parting had been bitter and not yet fully mended. The question seemed so innocent; plus the fact that Warner had seen past his debonair, schmoozing façade seemed to show high perceptiveness and empathy.

So Bruce, in a rare moment of truthfulness as Bruce Wayne, and an even rarer moment of vulnerability that he wouldn't allow himself often in any identity, had admitted it: yes, he missed his boy. He was proud—he forced himself to say—to see how the young man was striking out on his own in Bludhaven, but still, he did miss him.

He had never expected in that moment that the conversation would continue, and continue, and on other dates continue, until it became clear that innocence had nothing to do with Warner. That Warner thought that Bruce had sexually abused or even raped Dick throughout his boyhood and then released him when he was eighteen and tall despite his omega dynamic. That Bruce was a pedophile... just like Warner. And it had continued until Bruce had realized that Warner was even worse than a common pedophile.

And now, Bruce was getting so close to getting enough evidence to crack what might be the biggest human trafficking ring he'd ever come across.

Well, to Bruce, it was human trafficking. To Warner, the United Nations convention where most countries around the world agreed to recognize that animal-human hybrids had the same human rights as other humans was an irritating setback to be ignored. He'd managed to get not only his own "stock", but he had connections to other "dealers" across the world.

It was one of the trickiest cases Bruce had ever worked on, because he had to get in deep, but he also had to try to protect his legal identity from getting tied up in it. Fortunately, Warner thought he understood his caution; Bruce Wayne did have a lot to lose, and buying underage omega sex slaves was the kind of scandal that could stick to even a billionaire.

Warner specialized in catboys, explaining to Bruce that nekos were even better than ordinary boys, and had a seemingly endless list of reasons why. They were all omegas, and "strongly expressed" omegas, whatever that meant. They stayed young and cute looking for a long time, decades, at least; the hybrids hadn't been around longer than that. Then there was his horrifying laugh when he said that catboys were "not exactly submissive by nature, but they're smart and they get cause and effect very quickly."

Warner's only complaint was that they were "difficult to breed"; most catboys conceived regular human fetuses most of the time, although this could be tested in utero and "dealt with".

It was a real ordeal, gaining Warner's trust, having to act a role of being someone just as disgusting, but it seemed to be progressing well, until suddenly Bruce realized it had progressed _too_ well.

Bruce had met Warner at his house, as he had several times before, but this time Warner led him to a door, unlocked and opened it.

"Got a surprise for you," Warner said without looking over his shoulder as he went through the door.

As Bruce followed, he realized there was an omega in heat somewhere nearby.

"I had a return," Warner continued. "This little kitty nearly caused a disaster for his owner with his escape attempts. And this was the second try, and an owner who had really good security. He's nearly escaped from me as well, so even though I'd have liked to try to breed him—wait til you see his colouring—I can't risk it. So I'll be putting him down, but he's gone into heat and I thought, I'm keeping Bruce waiting, why not let him have a preview? In heat he won't be trying to run away, but we got him tied just in case."

The smell was getting stronger and the gears in Bruce's head were whirling. How to get this poor boy out of here before Warner could kill him? Of course Bruce could just knock Warner out and take the boy, but that would mean an end to discovering where Warner kept. the bulk of his "merchandise" and how he was transporting them. Moreover, handling an omega in heat to get him out of this place while also dodging Warner's security and making sure that there was no evidence that Warner could use to frame him would be a dizzying task.

Dizzying... was it really dizzying? Or was there just... something fuzzing up his head, fogging up his mind... the heat smell? No, Bruce had never been affected this strongly by heat pheromones.

There was a muffled scream coming from the direction they were walking, but Warner laughed and said, "Oh, and they scream if you don't fuck them quickly enough. Some people don't like it but I find it a real ego boost."

Warner unlocked and opened one more door, and Bruce inhaled sharply.

"Fantastic, isn't it?" Warner said with a grin, and gestured for Bruce to go in. "Told you. You'll be hooked after this. Go on in."

Bruce's feet propelled him through the door, and his eyes couldn't look away from the elegant, pathetic youth on the bed. Flushed, almost irritated looking skin, nipples peaked and swollen, tears or sweating leaking from beneath a blindfold. His dark hair had a little tufted white streak in the front, his ears were black with white tips, and the tail that squirmed underneath him likewise had a white tip. The catboy was rubbing his thighs together and whimpering, pulling on where his two hands were restrained to the top of the bed. A black collar covered most of his neck. It had a little bell hanging off it that rattled more than rang as he moved. Most grotesque of all, he was wearing a diaper.

"Alpha?" The boy called out, stilling and sniffing the air as Bruce came in.

"Yes, it's a new Master, kitten. Show him how good you can be and maybe he'll take you home, hmm?"

The boy visibly stiffened at Warner's voice, then breathed in sharply through his nose. His mouth twisted a moment before he opened to say, "...Master, help me."

Warner winked at Bruce. "There's a bathroom through that door there if you need it, and you can ring the bell when you want something to eat. I'm going to have to lock you in together."

Bruce's tongue felt like cotton in his mouth. He was looking past Warner to the boy and his brain was processing at about one quarter speed as he tried his damndest to figure out a way to save this boy from Warner's planned execution without jeopardizing his plan to take down the whole operation and save _all_ the slaves.

Bruce's attention was jerked back to Warner when he felt the man taking his hand to press a couple condoms into his palm.

"Cat's got your tongue, I see," laughed Warner. "Well, we'll talk money for taking home your own after, hmm? Have fun."

The door closed and locked, and the boy howled, a desperate noise that stabbed into Bruce's overheated brain. "Quiet!" he said sternly, and the boy bit off his yelp, though his tail kept lashing.

"Then _fuck_ me," the boy said, loud and petulant.

In hindsight, Bruce found it difficult to understand why he had let himself get so wrapped up in the matter of "how do I get Warner to let me take this boy away" that he entirely ignored the question of whether he should fuck an almost certainly underage _sex slave._

No, in hindsight, it wasn't that he found it difficult to understand. It was that he found it difficult to reconcile with who he thought he was.

The boy just smelled and looked _so good._

Still, Bruce didn't make a move yet, though his cock was already fully hard and straining his designer suit pants.

"At least take off this _diaper,_ it's _humiliating,"_ said the boy, and that got Bruce moving, because yes, it must be extra humiliating to be put into a diaper because you were being restrained and unable to get to the bathroom. Taking the diaper off was a completely reasonable request, yes.

A reasonable request that put Bruce right there to see the boy's dripping wet folds and tiny excited penis as he tossed the diaper against the wall.

The boy's pheromones had smelled good, but his _slick..._

"C'mon, c'mon," the boy whined, and his tail hit against Bruce's thighs where he was kneeling on the bed.

Bruce looked up at the boy's neck and put a hand to the collar, and the boy stilled at the touch. Pleather, not real leather; cheap, with a tangible seam.

A little pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips, drawing Bruce's eyes up to the face that was half-covered with a blindfold. Bruce reached up to take it off and a pair of blue-green eyes with pupils that were at first larger than humanly possible, but which rapidly constricted in the overhead light into feline slits as the boy blinked and squinted.

"Oh," said the boy, "you're actually not bad looking."

It seemed so out of place that Bruce couldn't help a chuckle. "Thanks, I guess. What's your name?"

"My name? Why would _you_ care? You're not going to buy _me._ You're just here to fuck me—and you're not even doing that!" The boy pulled on his hand restraints a bit but they wouldn't budge.

"I still want to know."

"If I tell you, will you fuck me? Give me... give me a knot?"

Bruce breathed in more of the boy's heat scent. "Yes."

The boy bit his lower lip a moment, then said, "Aw, hell, I guess it don't matter. Jason—my mom called me Jason." The lip trembled a little, then the boy said, loud, "Okay, that's it, alright?"

Bruce's hands went to his belt. "Okay, Jason. I'm Bruce."

That surprised Jason more than anything so far. He gawked at Bruce as the man continued taking his bottoms off. "You want me to call you... is that not your actual name, or something? Is this some title I don't know?"

"No, it's my real first name," said Bruce, but his cock was out and Jason had attention for nothing else.

"Oh my God, put that inside me _now,"_ he moaned.

And Bruce did. He settled heavily on top of the boy, his suit jacket and tie still on, and started fucking him without any attempt at foreplay. It didn't seem to bother Jason. On the contrary, Bruce had never had a sex partner, not even the golddiggers who were baldly attempting to make him think he was a sex god, who looked this blissed out just by having a cock inside them.

"Oh, yes, yes, daddy," moaned Jason, which made Bruce's hips stutter as he got an uncomfortable shock out of his heat haze into some partial understanding of how wrong this was.

"Bruce," he grunted.

"Bruce, whatever, right, sorry, just don't stop. Bruce, _Bruce,_ you... hey, you have pretty blue eyes, you know."

Delightful absurdity again. This boy...! But then this _boy_ clenched around him and added, "Hey, hey, why are you still stopped. C'mon, Bruce, I'm saying it, Bruce Bruce Bruce Bruce Bruce, oh God, _Bruce!"_

This last shout was because Bruce had started thrusting again, harder and faster than before. He had never had sex like this, not even with an omega, so... so _animalistic,_ so purely pleasurable. He wanted to experience it again and again. He wanted to keep this omega with his smart aleck mouth and his tight little cunt and never let him go.

He wanted to _claim._

As if approving of these thoughts, Jason came, keening and arching back his chin, revealing his throat, except that tacky collar was in the way.

Bruce never let anything stand in his way.

"Mmm, mmm, ahhh, ahh," moaned and sighed Jason as he came down from his high, "oh, slow down for a bit, please, I'm sensitive!"

"No," said Bruce, "I'm going to come too. I'm going to knot you and fill you with my seed until I breed you."

Jason looked turned on, but then suddenly his expression changed. "Wait. Just—that's just dirty talk, right? You're... you're wearing a condom... hold on, you need to pull out and put on a condom—"

"No," Bruce said, fucking the boy like a machine. God help him, the extra squirms and futile attempts to get away were making him feel powerful and in control. "Gonna breed you. Gonna keep you."

"Bruce, you can't," the boy begged, frantic, "they won't let me—you don't understand, I can't, I'm not allowed—no! No, no, no, don't!"

It was too late, and the boy knew it, for all that he kept screaming _no no no_ and letting tears fall down his pretty cheeks as Bruce's knot swelled, caught, at the entrance of Jason's cunt and Bruce, his eyes closed, shuddered with pleasure as he came and came, spurting jet after jet up into Jason's insides.

"Can't—no, I can't—no, oh no, it feels so good, I'm gonna come again! No, no, I'm coming!"

Bruce groaned as he felt Jason's second orgasm milk his knot. He opened his eyes and saw the boy crying, but his focus was more on the offensive layer of pleather.

He put his hands to the collar again and Jason squeaked in panic as he took hold of it and, with a businesslike and powerful pull at the seam, broke it.

The pull had unfortunately pushed on Jason's throat as well, so for the moment he couldn't really speak, couldn't make any objection as Bruce pushed his mouth under his jaw, searched for a mating gland, and found it.

———

When Bruce finally drove back to his own home, it was a full day later, and there was a very quiet catboy with a noticeable bulge in his abdomen buckled into the back seat. Quiet, because there was a gag in his mouth, a blindfold over his eyes, and handcuffs and ankle cuffs on his limbs. Warner's usual "packing for shipment," apparently.

Bruce had agreed to pay half a million dollars for Jason, with the understanding that Bruce wanted to buy even more catboys. That would give him the in to keep investigating, and he'd certainly proved to Warner now that he was...

One of _them._

Bruce's hands gripped the steering wheel hard as he felt a sick plunge in his stomach.

How was he going to break this to Alfred? And Dick... when Dick found out, he would never forgive him. Nobody would, except Alfred—not that Alfred would be pleased, but Bruce knew Alfred's devotion was unconditional. Just thinking of it put a lump in his throat.

After Bruce bit him, Jason had stopped speaking, though he did moan and wail plenty as Bruce fucked him through the rest of his heat.

And cried. The boy had cried, a lot, and shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut whenever Bruce attempted to soothe and cajole him into sharing why.

Well, of course. The boy was desperate to escape his slavery, even Warner had recognized that. Now with a bonding mark on him the boy would never really be free. Even his previous abusers hadn't done that to him.

Warner told Bruce, conversationally, as advice for future reference, it was a bad idea to mark catboys. "Makes you too attached," he had said. "I know your instincts wanna do it when they're in heat, but then you start thinking you're in love and all that—seen it a hundred times. You'll find it harder to keep a firm hand, so they'll get into more trouble. Plus, when they die, you get depressed from the bond shock."

God, even the pedophile sex trafficker thought he had made a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of past forced abortions.

Bruce took Jason directly into the panic room. It wasn't that he was going to keep Jason prisoner (he told himself), but Jason just... had to stay somewhere safe for the time being.

He took off the blindfold and gag but left the other restraints on, just to have a conversation first.

Jason stared at him sullenly.

Bruce cleared his throat. "I, uh..."

He wasn't usually at a loss. But those accusing, slitted pupils were hard to look at.

Bruce cleared his throat again. "This may be difficult to believe, from my... behaviour with you, but I was not... I did not realize, when I went to Warner's house yesterday, that I would be offered... you. And I did not intend to..." He searched for a verb other than the obvious, but then decided that it would only be cowardly not to call it what it was. "...rape you. Force-claim you."

The blue-green eyes blinked, and looked confused, then wary.

"I am... you could say that I was undercover, investigating Warner. I am trying to stop Warner's operation and free his slaves. I... it was never my intention to participate, at all, I find it morally reprehensible... what I did. I cannot apologize enough, and I want you to know that I won't touch you like that ever again."

Jason blinked again, then said crossly, "Is this some kind of fucked up roleplay? Look, if you want to pretend you're not a bad guy and act like you didn't love fucking me and can't wait to do it again, knock yourself out. It doesn't matter to me."

Bruce frowned. "I deserve your skepticism. I can't give you a timeline, but as soon as possible..." He'd been about to say that Jason would be able to come out of hiding and be free, but then he realized there was a major snag to that. Jason had his mark, anybody who smelled him now and knew Bruce's scent would be able to tell that this boy was claimed by him. And he would have no legal defence.

Jason was looking at him like he was an idiot. "Can I get the bracelets off at least?"

Bruce pulled out the key. "I want to warn you not to try to escape, yet. I understand why you want to escape, believe me, but unfortunately I need you to stay hidden until I finish taking down Warner."

"Yeah, right, whatever." Jason rubbed his wrists, first one, then the other, while Bruce knelt down to do his ankles. "No point it in anyway, old man. Bond mark's as good as a tracking device, ain't it?"

"How old are you?" Bruce asked, dodging the bond mark topic.

"What day is it?"

"September fifth."

"Hm. Guess I'm eighteen then..."

Bruce was skeptical. He knew what Warner had said about catboys staying "young and cute", but Jason looked _so_ young. "When's your birthday?"

"August 16th."

"What year?"

The boy squinted. "Uh... nineteen ninety... something? I dunno, you do the math."

"You don't know your birth year?"

"Well, the last birthday I had with my mom I was fourteen," Jason said, counting that as one on his fingers, "then I had my first heat and I got sold to Warner, he shopped me around, finally got sold, I was with that guy a year, so I was fifteen or sixteen, then I escaped and managed to stay on the run for a while but Warner found me eventually, so I was seventeen I think, and he tried to keep me himself but I kept escaping, so he sold me to a guy he thought could handle me, but I nearly managed to escape while he was having a party which would have been awesome, outing him as a perv in front of all those people. I was so fucking close." Jason blew out a breath. "Anyway. So if it's September I must be eighteen now."

For a moment Bruce was relieved, but then it struck him how absurd that was. Even if Jason might technically be an adult, Bruce hadn't let believing him to be fourteen or fifteen at the most stop him from _raping_ him. Bruce forced himself to focus on another potential lead. "Who sold you to Warner?"

"My mom's master. I wasn't supposed to know his name but of course I know it. Willis Todd. My mom wasn't actually my real mom, my real mom was another catgirl that belonged to him before, but Todd got tired of her and traded her for my mom when I was, like, a toddler. Todd used to always say I was just like her, he didn't mean it as a compliment either. I guess she was mouthy."

"Willis Todd," Bruce said, making a mental note to investigate. "Is he your father?"

Jason laughed at him, then said, "Oh, you're serious. My kind don't have fathers. Not in any way that matters."

That was probably true, Bruce thought, especially since the man had sold him into sex slavery. "Well, I want you to know that won't be the case with us. I'll take responsibility."

Jason went back to confused and wary. "Responsibility for what?"

"The child."

Jason's arms crossed over his abdomen protectively. "You mean, if you even let it be born."

"Let it be born? Of course I'm going to let it be born."

"Yeah right. You'll kill it the second you find out it's not a cat," Jason said bitterly, hugging himself. "Four times and not a single one was a cat, so why would this one be one?"

"Whether it has cat features or not, it'll be human and my child," Bruce said. "I will never force you to have an abortion."

Jason breathed in and out sharply. "If you mean that... No, whatever. Listen, I'll pretend whatever you want, if you let me keep it, okay? But if you're lying to me..." He trailed off, and clenched his jaw hard, screwing up his face like he was trying to come up with a believable threat. "You'll just regret it, alright?"

"You don't have to pretend anything." Bruce stood up, and Jason flinched back, then tried to play it off like he just wanted to look at something on the mostly blank wall to the right. "Are you hungry? Make yourself at home, here. I will need to introduce you to my... friend, Alfred. He'll be around when I'm not, and—"

"God," grumbled Jason. "Fine. How many more friends am I gonna have to fuck?"

"What? No," said Bruce. "Alfred will help you with things like... if you need food. Nothing... else. I told you, nobody is going to rape you again."

Jason squinted at him. "You're a weird alpha. I don't get you at all."

On this depressing note, Bruce left to find Alfred.

———

Alfred was listening to NPR, sitting at the kitchen table with a teapot and a small plate with only crumbs on it, and making some kind of notes on a diagram. "Ah, good afternoon, Master Bruce. Would you care for some tea, sir?"

"No, thank you." Bruce stood next to the fridge, trying to think of how to say the unspeakable.

Alfred got up, went to the china cabinet, got another tea cup, came back to the table and poured it full of tea. "You're troubled, my boy. Come have tea."

Called out already.

Bruce sat at the indicated spot and watched Alfred add just a touch of milk to the earl grey, exactly how Bruce liked it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir."

Silence. A comfortable silence, which was actually more of a problem. It made it harder to break.

Alfred refilled his tea. Bruce sipped his, set the cup back down, and said, "I've been investigating a sex trafficking operation. A man named Colin Warner who is buying and selling cat hybrids, and has connections to other slavers. Every kind of depravity you can name."

Alfred frowned. "Indeed, sir. I had noticed you had that kind of weight on you for some time that only comes when you are investigating particularly loathsome crimes."

"It is loathsome," Bruce agreed, looking at the surface of the tea. "I... I've done something truly loathsome, Alfred, as part of keeping my cover. A line I never should have crossed."

After a moment, Alfred prompted, "Go on," his tone neutral.

Bruce kept looking at the tea. "Warner surprised me with a slave that was in heat, offering him to me as a kind of test drive. He told me that he planned to kill the boy afterwards so it didn't matter much what happened to him. In the moment... I only thought of how to take him away from Warner without breaking my cover. I didn't even consider not raping him, and I not only raped him, I _claimed_ him... Alfred, is this who I really am?"

Alfred _tsked,_ and the sound was so commonplace that Bruce jerked his face up. "Master Bruce, really. Do you not see that your existential crisis should be the _least_ of your concerns right now? Where is the boy?"

"He's in the panic room."

"Have you had him examined by a doctor? When did he last eat and drink? Have you asked about his family?"

"Not the doctor. I partly came here to see about getting him food. I did ask about his family, he was born into slavery and it was his father who sold him on. I have a lead there."

"Hang your leads," Alfred said, exasperated, "you have a _child bride,_ Master Bruce. _He_ should be your first, and if needs be, _only_ priority. My goodness, I knew you could be selfish, but to be brooding at a time like this...!" Alfred stood up and moved to the fridge. "You get _back_ to him immediately, sir. I will make him up a tray. Find out what the boy needs. Clothes, books, toys... does he even know how to read? I will call Dr. Thompson and arrange a home visit appointment as soon as may be. Go, now." As Alfred bent into the fridge, Bruce could still hear him mutter, "'Is this who I really am,' indeed. My goodness."

This was not the reaction Bruce had expected, yet in its own way it was fully as chastising as the worse of Bruce's imaginations. Alfred was deeply disappointed in him, that was obvious. But further than that, Alfred was disappointed in him for not only his action yesterday that bound Jason to him, but perhaps even more for not putting Jason's needs first today.

And Alfred was right. Jason's needs did need to come first.

Bruce gulped his tea and went back to the panic room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although Jason's age is ambiguous and he is possibly eighteen, I went with the Underage warning because Jason doesn't look eighteen and Bruce believed him to be under eighteen in chapter one.

**Author's Note:**

> This is late and unfinished but I wanted to get something out in the world.


End file.
